Nightwalkers
by doblersboombox
Summary: "In a hundred years' time, the sun shall meet the moon. Fang and fur will fight for a world that is not theirs, but the bite of pure love shall change it all." / An AU Ensemble fic.
1. Prologue

Prologue

It was eleven in the evening; a most inappropriate time for a lady to be out, all alone in the streets of Chicago. The families were asleep, the thugs guarded every alley, and everyone else was enjoying themselves at speakeasies with powder under their noses and clouds of smoke covering their faces. They were the ones who, despite the commute a few hours later, would be able to kill time because they practically run the company. But not Addison Montgomery – she had no time to waste. In fact, time was of the essence, and it was running low fast.

While the city was clouded in lights and smog, Evergreen Park an entirely different story. It was one of Chicago's few suburbs; a peaceful community with white picket fences for young families and their relatives. That was what the cop said anyway, but it did look like it, for there was no one in the streets and the only sources of light came from the faint glow of candles and small light bulbs in the houses. Addison pulled her hat closer as she looked up to look for the sign.

Addison first heard about the Seek in a pub in Europe. A friend gave her a spare ticket and she immediately accepted it, right on time for La Fete Nationale. The night of fireworks gathered all kinds of people to the streets. With Jacques' guidance, they steered their way out of suspicion and into the lively alley of Montmartre. Under the influence of absinthe, he spilled about the one called "the Seek," a woman who could see past the present, and expose disguises. It was a rite of passage for all of them to visit her – if they could find her. Only the lucky ones were able to. So after the fog had disappeared, Jacques waved her away to the nearest train station. "_Ma chère mademoiselle Montgomery, vous devez le faire vous-même_," he said wistfully as the conductor blew on his whistle. "We all did."

So for the past five years, Addison traveled the world for a meeting with this Seek. She didn't know if she was going to believe or not. But she wanted to be a lucky one. It turned out to be a daunting task with obstacles like dead ends, deceitful informants, and exhaustion. Shaleha was her last informant. A jolly, plump woman from Asia, she was also the last known person who saw the Seek, and Addison found her in the midst of the New Year's ball drop. Shaleha was the one who told her about Evergreen Park. Before she left, Addison had to ask her what she looked like. She probably deserved it already at this point. However, the other woman shrugged, a coy smile gracing her chapped lips. "She is different for everyone, Addison. You must go."

Addison finally saw it. _It's the rickety house at the end of the street. The compass on the chimney cackles in electric blue and ruby red. Nobody knows why. _Aside from that, it looked like every other house in the neighborhood. There was a picket fence, beige exterior, front porch – where a lady was quietly knitting in the dead of night.

"Good evening Addison," the Seek greeted her nonchalantly as she cautiously walked up the stairs. The other woman motioned for her to sit down, and she did just that, and also placed her purse on the table. Addison looked at her carefully. The Seek's hair was streaked with grey, her mischievous (purple?) eyes glistened through her horn-rimmed glasses, and her able, stubby fingers continued to knit as she was also looking at her. She was old, but she still had a bit of youth in her.

Addison cleared her throat. "Um…am I supposed to call you Seek or…?" Her legs shifted under the table; she slid her left foot out of its shoe. Who knew what power this woman possessed? Every one of her informants was vague as a drunken man in a pub.

The Seek laughed softly at that, and put down her knitting materials. "Dear, you can call me Violet." Her Southern drawl was both unfamiliar and welcoming.

"Is that your real name?" Addison snapped. "Violet" shrugged and gave her a smile. She wasn't going to get her answer. She rolled her eyes; she didn't go all the way here for her name anyway. She held out her right palm.

Violet laughed again. It was getting to her nerves very quickly. This should be done and over with. "An eager beaver, I see." Violet held her hand with one hand and pressed her glasses to her eyes with the other. Her calloused fingers crossed over and over her smooth skin.

"Hmm…interesting," Violet let go of her hand and looked up at the dim bulb above them. Addison wondered if she gets all her answers there. She should've just stayed with Tom Edison then. The man who invented the thing wanted to give her a role in one of his moving pictures. Violet finally looked at her, and she raised an eyebrow. "You, my dear Addison, will find a great love."

That was it? Five years of finding and searching for that – a great love? Addison had no time for love of any kind. Love was for lovers. Love led to rejection. There were more important things in the world besides love, like culture, pictures, and fashion. Fashion, especially. She will definitely head for Paris after this. She had to see Coco Chanel.

Violet chuckled. Again with the laugh – Addison slid on her left foot back in its heel, ready to leave. She was going to give Jacques a good spanking. "You didn't let me finish Addison. Besides, your friend Jacques took seven years to find me. Stop complaining and let me continue." That stopped her from rolling her eyes. "This love that I am talking about will come, very, very far in the future. I suggest you just let things happen." Gladly, she thought. "In fact, I have seen that you will find, nay have, a family of your own."

Addison had to blink a couple of times to register. "Did you just say family?"

"Oh, so now I've got your attention." Addison gritted her teeth. This woman would just not stop laughing. If she wasn't an old lady she would've decked her ten minutes ago already. "Yes Addison, you will have a family. How, I cannot tell you. But it will happen – soon. A painful heartbreak is also foreseeable. From what, you will have to wait and see. However, I can tell you that it will be the hardest thing for you. See that bulb up there? Imagine it shattering into a million pieces. That will happen to you."

Addison scoffed at every word. Her heart was already shattered to begin with.

"You think that now, dearie, but I tell ya, it'll bite when you least expect it. I'll get us some tea. It's dangerous out there for a pretty girl like ya." Violet stood up, and suddenly paused in her tracks. Addison looked at her intensely, waiting if there was more. Instead, the other woman started trembling from head to foot, and collapsed to the floor, landing on her side. Addison shot up to help her up, but the woman continued to convulse. Her fingers wiggled like an octopus's tentacles, until they reached Addison's pale white cheeks. Violet's purple eyes now swirled in cackling blue and red, the same colors of her famous compass. "Listen to me," her voice became weak but eerie.

"_In fifty years' time, a formidable vampire will be born in city lights to become the most powerful of his kind. When the date strikes again, a ferocious wolf will emerge from the rain to lead her pack to dominion. Once the moon embraces the sun, the truce shall be broken and blood will be shed. Fang and fur will fight for a world that is not theirs, but the bite of pure love will change it all."_

Many years have passed since then, and try as she might, Addison could never forget her sole encounter with the Seek. Ever since that fateful night, she became more than a lucky one. Everyone started to know her name. Addison Montgomery had been the first and only one to hear it from her. It wasn't just a prediction – it was a prophecy.


	2. A Hard Day's Night

Chapter One: A Hard Day's Night

Owen tossed and turned in his army bed, which was more like a cot. He blinked a few times until he couldn't take it anymore. He quickly sat up (a habit taken from his drill sergeant) and rubbed his eyes. The barracks were fairly quiet, except for a couple of loud snores from men. But not his men; no, the rest of his men stepped on a landmine earlier that afternoon. He was the only survivor. Owen wanted to punch a wall, but this wasn't his territory. He'd already knocked over a couple of lamps. Sighing, he put on his boots and trudged into the moonlight.

"Going for a walk Hunt?" The squad leader said; he was sitting by the door. Aside from himself, he was the only one over thirty. No wonder sleep evaded him. Owen simply grunted and continued to walk. That was him. He was a grunt.

Funny thing about this desert: most of the time it was one of the hottest surfaces in this earth. Everything would feel on fire, and no amount of water, or at least the meager supply that they have here, could quench anyone's thirst. For Owen, saliva was just as good as water. But when night fell, the sand would turn cold. The wind would dance dangerously and in their eyes would be trickles of rough dust that irritated all of their faces. His platoon used to laugh about it, and then he'd be the grump who won't join in. Owen has learned to live with it though. Seven years in camp would do that to anyone.

Seven years. But it felt like a lifetime. An era of bombs, of chaos, of protecting all kinds of bodies from the horrors they couldn't escape. And tomorrow, he would be going home. But what was home exactly? His mother contacted him frequently, but all he could say was 'yes,' 'no,' and 'hope you're doing fine ma' - unlike him. Because what was he supposed to talk to the woman about? "Hey, a bomb went off near the village and everyone in there almost died. But I still went in, because I wouldn't let them." He wasn't that boy who got sent off by his parents anymore. He broke off his engagement through e-mail last week. He didn't deserve Beth Whitman, and Beth Whitman didn't deserve damage. But he will still go to Seattle.

Owen looked at his watch, the sole luxurious possession he had right now. According to his mother, it was her father's, his grandfather who always gave him toy blocks back when he was a kid. He wanted to be an architect back then. It was nearing two in the morning and yet sleep still evaded him. He lied down in the rough floor of the hogback, thinking he should just start counting stars instead of sheep. He wanted to be like that guy - Rip Van Winkle. And then…and then…

A piercing howl broke through the dead of night. He jolted up, his feet immediately standing on the dust. It was unnatural. Owen looked around his surroundings and beyond; there was no sign of an explosion or a gunshot. But then again it wasn't like anything he had heard before. He skidded downward into the sea of golden brown. Another thing about the desert: there was nowhere to hide.

"Hello?" he shouted into the void, his voice strong and firm. His right hand dug in his pocket for a Swiss as he continued to walk further from the camp and back…to the site. The village that took his troop, the village that was now in ruins. A camouflaged helmet was next to what looked like the remains of a brick house. A tattered tent flew away in the distance. His boot caught something, a mangled body. He moved forward; he could only save so much.

Another sound – this time it was a growl. Or at least Owen thought it was. There were no animals in the desert except for the camels sellers traveled on. And camels didn't growl. But this sound was loud and feral. The noise grew louder and louder as he walked through the morning night. His eyes hurt from squinting and the sand. But he had to continue. There will be no more threats. Not on his watch. And then he saw it. A little hut that only had its roof blown off since it almost settled on the edge of the village. Owen sprinted towards it, even if his left leg hurt from the events earlier.

"I'm Major Owen Hunt and oh shit!" he immediately backed to the nearest wall in reflex. The knife he was holding dropped to the floor and his eyes remained transfixed on the sight. Wolves didn't come to the desert, so why was there one in front of him? Drool fell to the floor, leaving raindrop blotches in its wake. Owen sucked in a breath to relax himself. He couldn't call anyone – they were all asleep, he didn't know any of them, and he didn't want to drag them down with him anyway.

"Calm down boy," he said, his hands up in the air as he slowly walked to the middle of the room, near to the other door in the hut. It was more for himself than the…predator; except it wasn't acting like one. Black-brown paws followed his every footstep. Not a sound could be heard but the pitter patter of their feet. The silence irritated him. Why the wait? This was just another bomb. Unlike what they always said, he didn't have his life flash out on him. What was life anyway? Childhood swings were replaced by surgeries. Terror teachers turned into drill sergeants. The seven years took a toll on him. Or maybe, just maybe…there wasn't any flash because he wasn't dying. He scurried to pick up his knife in the small glimmer of hope.

The wolf pounced on him, trapping Owen in its mercy. His tall frame was no match for the creature's build. And just this once, he found himself to look in its eyes. If he was going to die tonight, he wanted to see his killer face to face.

"O'Malley?"

And then Owen woke up.

Lexie was having a hangover. Or at least, that was what she told her classmates in UDub. The truth was that she wanted to get a day off from classes. It was plausible. There was a huge party at Steve Mostow's last night, and while he was a real nerd, he did buy booze so by nine in the evening everyone was there, and everyone was made to do a keg stand. She talked to Stevie a little bit, and people started to leave a couple of hours later because there was another party to go to. But she wasn't able to go because she was on designated driver duty. So she just gave poor Stevie a kiss. No sex though, that would be too charitable, even for her.

"Good morning Seattle!" the radio blared out. Dani probably borrowed her car. "It is I, your friendly neighborhood…DJ! It's Peter manning the booth today. New guy, so go easy on me. It's partly cloudy here in our city, so let's get some music on to brighten the mood!" Lexie almost punched the radio off when she heard Justin Bieber's voice.

She sneakily left campus for Kepnerette's, this deli that was only a couple of minutes away. It had been open for almost a year now, and she'd become really good friends with the owner, April, though she never expected it. They were just too different, but opposites attract and all that stuff. Lexie parked her car and sighed before entering the small but thriving shop. She knew the routine.

"Good morning Lexie!" April greeted her with the brightest smile in Seattle. Lexie had compared her voice to birds a couple of times now. Not just ordinary birds - specifically the ones that sing with Snow White or help Cinderella with her dress. Right now, April had her hair up in a bun as she proceeded to set up the ingredients for the day. She would never tell her this, but Lexie thought she looked like a Stepford wife – except husbandless. She looked at her watch; Kepnerette's just opened and she was always on time.

"Hey April," she gave out a smile of her own. It was less cheery, but just as sincere. She stood in front of the counter since she wanted to talk to her. There weren't any other customers around yet, but there were bound to be soon. Lexie wasn't tired – a little antsy, maybe. But she needed a pick-me-up.

"I reckon you want the usual?" April asked and Lexie nodded. The usual was what they called "Black Lettuce Chicken," which consisted of olives, lettuce, and chicken.

"So..." April always started their conversations and she didn't mind. Lexie wanted their conversations to relate to her; the girl could always use a confidence boost. Last week it was about the cute customer who came in for the first time. The guy said, "I'll have what she's having." 'She' referred to Lexie, but it was April who liked him because he quoted When Harry Met Sally. "I heard there was a rager on campus last night. And a certain Lexie made out with a quote-unquote nerd," April looked at Lexie coyly as she sprinkled olives on the wheat bread.

April knew about the party because the shop was packed with kids talking about it last night. She laughed to herself. She called them kids and yet she was only two years older than them – or than Lexie, at least. She'd never been through that phase; she was the so-called priss who wouldn't drink, smoke, or even put out. But then again, if she wasn't like that, she wouldn't have this. "Lexie…" she teased as she put a generous heaping of chicken on bread.

"Fine, fine," Lexie chuckled. "I made out with Stevie. But enough about me, let's go with you. Did the cute guy ever come back this week?"

"N-no," April's tone went a bit higher, if that was even possible. She was actually glad the guy didn't come back. She couldn't handle a relationship right now, not with Kepnerette's running like Titanic pre-iceberg. Matthew was also being a pain in the ass, and she hasn't told anyone, not even Lexie. Just yesterday, he left ten of each – voicemails, missed calls, bouquets. For a paramedic, he was extremely dumb. There were no second chances. Not with her. Her smile came back when she handed Lexie her sandwich. "Hey, I heard there was gonna be a thing at Emerald City Bar later. Wanna come with me?" It wasn't her type of place at all, but it was the first thing that came up to her. Besides, Lexie had class tonight; she was bound to forget about it.

Lexie looked at her seriously. Joe's and April did not add up in her book. Still, she just shrugged and took a bite of her sandwich. It was delicious, but it tasted…sad. She wondered why, but it wasn't in her place to pry. "Hmm… April, this is so good! Classic!"

Eventually, Lexie had to settle in one of the tables since a flurry of customers came and go like they were on a marathon. Lexie liked to observe people – their habits and their mannerisms showed small windows into their lives. They were all so fast and yet so slow. But it was novelty; it eventually tired her. So as the clock struck eleven, Lexie quietly snuck out of the shop amidst the shouts for vegan and more cheese.

A little further from Kepnerette's stood Seattle Grace Hospital, "Washington's best," as it stated on the brochures she saw at school. They weren't lying: even people from the East Coast would go here to see medical miracles. She had never been inside though – she wasn't really sickly type. However, she liked to hang out in the ER parking lot, and the usual waited for her. She shrugged at him as she stood by his side. This time, the usual was a guy named Alex Karev. Dark brown hair, light brown eyes, sky blue scrubs – he would call her a baby and she would retort with evil spawn. They were very good friends.

"Shouldn't you be at school, kid?" Alex asked her, followed by an unapologetic snort. Lexie smacked him in the head. "Ouch!"

"You deserve it," she taunted him. Her hands were now secured in her jacket because there was a chance her fists would involuntarily kick his ass. Sooner or later, more residents or interns or whatever would come out of the door, so she had to be quick. "You seen Derek?" she asked. "I think Kepnerette's hung up on him and I want my tasty food back."

Alex snorted again. "The man's probably screwing with the world." No one ever saw Derek. Not after what happened with him and Addison. But like he said – the dude was a man. He could be in the other Washington for all he cared. He had his big boy pants on. Then Alex caught the other part of her rant.

"Oh hurl, Lexie," he rolled his eyes. "You don't even need sandwiches."

Arizona Robbins wasn't nosy. For her, the correct word would be curious. She liked to know how the people around here are doing, whether good or bad. Her impeccable bedside manner served well with patients, but not for some of her colleagues – especially Alex Karev. She had to give it to him though; he was her resident, and yet he would talk to her like anyone else. His frankness would make him both a good and a stubborn surgeon.

She was stealing a few winks (she had been living on coffee for the past forty-eight hours) in the on-call room when a hot-headed Bailey paged her to the pit. There had been a bus accident during a field trip to the Space Needle. It sounded awful, but she had a job to do. "Karev's already there! We'll catch right up," Bailey shouted as she hurriedly put on latex gloves. But when Arizona walked closer to the parking lot, she saw that he wasn't alone. Or that maybe it was just her figment of imagination. The woman beside him was gone in just a blink.

"It's pretty cold out, huh?" she stated to Alex, though her gaze was up in the clouds. She should've brought an umbrella.

"The ambulance shall arrive in three minutes," Alex told her in a serious tone. He doesn't talk, he speaks. He doesn't smile, he smirks. Arizona nodded and stood on the same spot she saw that woman a mere second ago.

"Hey, Alex," she began. "I know this is a little personal, but…do you have a girlfriend at the moment?"

At first, she was answered by a snort. Alex cleared his throat to control himself. "No, Dr. Robbins, I don't have a girlfriend right now. But…I have girl friends, and my best friend's name is Lexie. She's still at UDub."

Arizona quirked an eyebrow, interested. In Alex's year in Seattle Grace, he never spilled anything about himself. It was understandable for a transfer to be quiet, but he was on a whole other level. She wondered if this Lexie was the woman she saw earlier. She wondered how she could've disappeared so quickly – literally in a blink of an eye. But before she could say anything else, the familiar sirens of the ambulance skidded to a halt in front of them, and Jackson Avery was by her side.

"Awesome, I'm right on time," Alex's fellow resident clapped his hands in glee. She had to look away. Both men were very promiscuous, but Jackson was much worse. Arizona didn't have to ask him to know that he was just boning an intern in the on-call room. She was there.

"David McCarter, age 10, trauma to the head," the paramedic hurriedly said. The boy was unconscious, and his yellow hair was covered in red. He was the first in a class of twenty, and the teachers weren't even counted. It was hard, but Arizona gritted her teeth. She was raised to be a good man in a storm.

"Hey," she heard Jackson say to Alex. "I heard Webber's bringing in a new general this month."

The last time Meredith Grey was in Seattle, she was just a kid. She was seven-year-old whose father left her for another family, and probably for another little girl. Technically, her mother was there, but she also wasn't. Ellis Grey spent more time in the hospital than in the family home, where her daughter was waiting with a plate of French toast, the only thing she ever learned how to cook properly since no one taught her about anything else. There were Home Economics in high school, but by that time she already dyed her hair bubblegum pink and was sneaking out late at night with the other poseurs.

A long time ago, she was convinced that she was going to die of an oxy overdose, or maybe from stumbling to the hospital steps with a bottle of tequila in hand. Instead, she cleaned up, she went to Dartmouth, finished her residency in Boston, and now she was here. She did this for herself. She wasn't even supposed to be here anyway. Johns Hopkins wanted her, but Seattle Grace had a heftier offer. And right now, she needed that. So starting tomorrow, Meredith Grey would be working under the man who destroyed her already broken family.

She stood there, in front of "the family home", for a very long time. The movers were coming tomorrow, and the pitter-patter of raindrops didn't bother her one bit. She could stand for a couple of minutes more. It still looked the same from the outside; the only major changes were the plant growth and Jackson's Ferrari 308. It was a huge house, and Meredith finally realized, maybe that was why it always felt empty.

"And…the Grey lady has finally returned!" George opened the door with a smile fit for a toothpaste commercial, and Meredith couldn't help but give him a quick hug. She could never understand how an army grunt like George stayed so cheerful and giddy. She was secretly glad that he was finally discharged; she was afraid it would suck the life out of him.

"Hello, boss," Jackson waved at her from the stairs. He was eating cereal on one hand and lifting a small weight on the other. The inside, as she expected, was a complete madhouse. Bottles and red cups were strewn on the oak floor, different kinds of stains dried up on the carpet, and clothes. There were clothes everywhere. Her green eyes turned sternly at Callie, who was humming while working the kitchen. The smell of something edible in this house was strange for Meredith.

"What?" Callie licked her spatula, and then looked at Meredith. "Come on, the party last night was well-deserved. George had a breakthrough yesterday. He visited his parents. And then this kid Steve Mostow threw a rager near UDub, but I was bored so I out-partied him. Who can resist the Calliope?" Meredith laughed at that. No one could resist the Calliope.

"And now that you're here, we're definitely going to Joe's," Jackson said with a smirk.


End file.
